Hastings Weare looked up at her, with laughter-brimming eyes.

"Victoria, you're a wonder!" he remarked. "Say, do you remember that
tall fellow we met at Humphrey's party, Austen Vane?"

"Yes."

"I saw him on the street in Ripton the other day, and he came right up
and spoke to me. He hadn't forgotten my name. Now, he'd be my notion of
a candidate. He makes you feel as if your presence in the world meant
something to him."

"I think he does feel that way," replied Victoria.

"I don't blame him if he feels that way about you," said Hastings, who
made love openly.

"Hastings," she answered, "when you get a little older, you will learn
to confine yourself to your own opinions."

"When I do," he retorted audaciously, "they never make you blush like
that."

"It's probably because you have never learned to be original," she
replied. But Hastings had been set to thinking.

Mrs. Pomfret, with her foresight and her talent for management, had
given the Ladies' Auxiliary notice that they were not to go farther
forward than the twelfth row. She herself, with some especially favoured
ones, occupied a box, which was the nearest thing to being on the stage.
One unforeseen result of Mrs. Pomfret's arrangement was that the first
eleven rows were vacant, with the exception of one old man and five
or six schoolboys. Such is the courage of humanity in general! On
the arrival of the candidate, instead of a surging crowd lining the
sidewalk, he found only a fringe of the curious, whose usual post of
observation was the railroad station, standing silently on the curb.
Within, Mr. Tooting's duties as an usher had not been onerous. He met
Mr. Crewe in the vestibule, and drew him into the private office.

"The railroad's fixed 'em," said the manager, indignantly, but sotto
voce; "I've found that out. Hilary Vane had the word passed around town
that if they came, somethin' would fall on 'em. The Tredways and all the
people who own factories served notice on their men that if they paid
any attention to this meeting they'd lose their job. But say, the people
are watchin' you, just the same."

"How many people are in there?" Mr. Crewe demanded.

"Twenty-seven, when I came out," said Mr. Tooting, with commendable
accuracy. "But it wants fifteen minutes to eight."

"And who," asked Mr. Crewe, "is to introduce me?"

An expression of indignation spread over Mr. Tooting's face.

"There ain't a man in Ripton's got sand enough!" he excl